It's hard to pick up blogging again when you haven't really been in the blogging zone in a very long time.
I haven't been quite myself lately. I don't know who I am anymore or what I'm
about. When events unfold, I'm unsure of what my reaction is, of what I should be doing. I torture myself wondering whether what I'm doing is the wrong thing or right.
I've changed in other ways too. I've become far more cynical and bitter. The hope and joie de vivere that once characterised me is slowly dying. I'm finding it harder and harder to talk to peopland make new friends. I'm not as easy-going and laid back as I once used to be. I'm much more harder and unforgiving than I used to be. I don't let go of issues easily. I hold grudges and that's something I NEVER used to do. I'm quite prepared to walk away from friends who've hurt me once and I'm equally prepared never to speak to them again and not make the first move.
Tellingly, I haven't been able to read much. I've read light fluff, but anything else that's even a bit more heavy, that reaches out and grabs my heart and soul has either been abandoned halfway through or placed back on my bookshelf with the promise to read it once I'm in the mood.
But in other ways, I'm more sentimental than I used to. I cried for ages and walked around with a heavy heart when a friend left for distant shores. I hold on more to the people who matter to me and I feel the need to constantly tell them so. I have to have constant reassurance of the same.
I've pondered over how hollow some friendships can be, when someone you've known since she was since fifteen turns out to be someone you don't know at all. Someone who when she sees old friends, crosses the road to avoid them rather than speak to us. Someone who talks to everybody but hides from the people who knew her best and knew her longest. Someone who's significant other turned out to be much above everybody else for her including her family and friends.
And what worries me most, is perhaps the knowledge that the parting of ways has come. When we all split up to find our own ways and make our own futures. That life as we know it is at an end.
Most of all, in these last few months, as I hunt for my identity, I look for where to go next. Journalism as a career is seeming less rosy to me by the minute. Nothing has captured me yet and ignited any sort of passion in me. Hopefully, the solution is peering at me from around the corner.
Lastly, to RM, as you find yourself amidst all the sheep and grass, know that we'll always be behind you. Across continents and seas, studies and exams, jobs and careers, boyfriends and girlfriends, husbands and wives. The bond the six of us have sustained over the last eight years will bind us together.
More importantly, remember, life is not a bed of roses. Life is a race and everything else will fall in place. :)